Cecil Otter - Another Chessboxin' Argument lyrics

[Intro: "Shaolin vs. Wu-Tang" + "Five Deadly Venoms"] A game of chess is like a swordfight; You must think first before you move Toad style is immensely strong and immune to nearly any weapon; When it's properly used it's almost invincible [Verse 1, 2, and 3 from Da Mysteries of Chessboxin', Enter the Wu-Tang: 36 Chambers, 1993] [Verse 1: U-God] Raw I'm a give it to you, with no trivia Raw like c**aine straight from Bolivia My hip-hop will rock and shock the nation Like the Emancipation Proclamation Weak MCs approach with slang that's dead You might as well run into the wall and bang your head I'm pushing force, my force you're doubting I'm making devils cower to the Caucasus Mountains [Verse 2: Inspectah Deck] Well I'm a sire, I set the microphone on fire Rap styles vary, and carry like Mariah I come from the Shaolin slum, and the isle I'm from Is coming through with enough n***as, and enough guns So if you want to come sweating, stressing contesting You'll catch a sharp sword to the midsection Don't talk the talk, if you can't walk the walk Phony n***as are outlined in chalk I'm mad vexed, it's what the projects made me Rebel to the grain there's no way to barricade me Steamrolling n***as like a eighteen wheeler With a drunk driver driving, there's no surviving [Verse 3: Raekwon the Chef] Rough like Timberland wear, yeah Me and the Clan in 'Yota Landcruisers out there Peace to all the crooks, all the n***as with bad looks Bald heads, braids, blow this hook We pack chrome Tecs, nickel plated Macs Black ACs, drug dealing styles in phat stacks I only been a good n***a for a minute though Cuz I got to get my props, and win it yo I got beef wit commercial-a** n***as with gold teeth Lamping in a Lexus eating beef Straight up and down don't even bother I got forty n***as up in here now, who k** n***as' fathers [Ian MacKaye] Here comes the argument Here comes the argument Here comes the argument Folderol It's all about strikes now So here's what's striking me [Verse 4: Method Man, from Method Man (Remix), Tical, 1994] Hey you get off my cloud See me get raw with my southpaw style Mover, puffing on a fat blunt from Cuba It's the Meth-Tical jet to Cal, I'm the Buddha Monk on the hunt for machine gun funk I gets you open like a slug from the shotgun pump Double-barrel, yeah Meth bring it to them proper Partner, you ain't got no wins in mi casa Straight up, you moving too fast so baby wait up Took one, added seven more now you eight up Get on down with your bad self Get on down, listen to the sound, come on Few can ever get this ultimate legit See you all up in my a** But you don't know sh**, uh-huh What's your definition of a real emcee From what you dedicated, hey it must be me Meth-Tical, a rude descendant of the loud hip-hop I go on to the break of dawn, and just don't stop Give me the green light, and the sign one way Have you had your meth today? Huh! Move it in, move it out Stick it in, pull it out Shake it up, shake it down Come on down, Meth-Tical Move it in, move it out Stick it in, pull it out Shake it up, shake it down Come on down, Meth-Tical [Ian MacKaye] Here comes the argument Here comes the argument Here comes the argument Folderol